


This One

by indoor_queer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Ron Weasley, Black Hermione Granger, Demisexual Hermione Granger, F/F, Gay Charlie Weasley, Jock Ginny, Lesbian Ginny Weasley, POV Ginny Weasley, Pansexual Hermione Granger, Slow Burn, The Burrow (Harry Potter), adding tags as we go, here's hoping, just expect a lot of gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indoor_queer/pseuds/indoor_queer
Summary: It's the summer before her fifth year and Ginny is fucked.That is, she's in love with her best friend, but same difference.
Relationships: Fred Weasley & Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 127





	1. Howard's Field

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck JK Rowling. Fuck her very much.
> 
> She owns all the characters and places in this story and I do not.   
> But I know Hermione and Ginny would stand up to her hate and bigotry.

Ginny woke to the familiar sounds of her mother puttering around the kitchen, getting ready for the stampede of people that would descend down the narrow staircase in a few hours. A warm breeze drifted through her window, fluttering the flower-patterned drapes and bringing in the smell of the garden and freshly cut grass. That smell alone quickened her pulse, images of wide-open fields and blue sky flashed behind her eyelids.

She drew back her sheets and stretched her whole body, feeling bones crack and sore muscles everywhere. Her fingers and toes brushed the walls on either side of her bed. Ginny lay for a bit, staring up the familiar funny face in the wood knot directly above her. She could never quite tell, but sometimes she thought she saw it moving.

If she got up now, she could steal Fred’s broom and go for an early ride. Get some practice in before the troop of idiots woke up. With this in mind, she popped out of bed and walked the two steps to her dresser, grabbing old athletic shorts and a worn-out Chudley Cannons t-shirt. Her bedroom was the smallest of the house, closer to a broom closet actually, but she didn’t mind. She was outside most of the day when she was home anyways. When the twins were being particularly rowdy, Percy was being insufferable (back when he was being insufferable at home), or Ron was a whiny git, she longed for space. She found it in the rolling hills surrounding the Burrow.

She grabbed her trainers, hand-me-downs with holes in the toes, and tramped downstairs.

“Morning, Mum,” she chirped towards Molly’s back and stopped to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Breakfast is up in an hour! Don’t forget this time… and BE CAREFUL!” her mother hollered after her fast retreating back. Ginny waved a hand in acknowledgement.

She walked around to the broom shed to steal Fred’s Comet, the broomstick in the best shape, and headed towards Howard’s field. It was in a valley, so she could fly high without being seen. She started off on the path at a light jog. By the time she arrived, spotting the familiar abandoned farm house and faded ‘Howard Farm’ sign, she’d worked up a sweat and felt the flush in her cheeks. She jumped on her broom and kicked off.

There was nothing like this. The summer air, already getting hot, the sun on her cheeks, and the wind whistling through her hair. Her red plait flew out behind her as she tilted the broom upwards and headed directly towards the clear blue sky. She messed around for a bit, doing loops and twirls in the air and flying around the large oak tree in the middle of the field. Then she started her Quidditch exercises, throwing crab apples for herself to chase. 

Before she knew it, the sun had fully risen from behind the hills and the wristwatch she’d charmed read _Breakfast_. She hooked the broom under her arm and began the run home, hoping she had time to sneak it back before her brothers woke up.

It was mid-August already and time for Harry and Hermione to show up. They would brighten the mood considerably. About one month into living in what was essentially a chimney stack of human beings and people started to get restless. And crabby. And perhaps ready to murder. If Ron complained one more time about having to do the dishes the Muggle way or the twins left another Exploding Earwax in her bed, she swore she’d burn the place to the ground. Not to mention that every time she sniped at her brothers, they made comments about it being ‘that time of the month’. Huge pains in the arse, the lot of them.

But Hermione was coming. It would be good to see her again.

Ginny groaned and rolled her eyes at herself.


	2. A Few Pranks and A Welcome

Ginny turned back towards the house after a particularly spectacular gnome-throw and spotted Hermione. Her heart leapt against her rib cage and she felt a smile take over her face.

“’Mione!” she shouted. She took a running start and tackled the other girl to the ground.

Ginny found herself straddling Hermione’s hips, taking in her sparkling brown eyes and shock.

“How are you?” she asked calmly, as if they had just shaken hands. She saw Hermione’s lips twitch slightly before she adapted a prim and proper expression.

“Well, and you?”

Hermione ruined it by smiling sheepishly at the end. Ginny blinked down at her friend, staring a little too long. She stood up with another grin and pulled Hermione into a proper hug.

“Save me,” she whispered into her ear, then pulled back. “I’VE BEEN SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS ALL SUMMER,” Ginny looked around at her brothers, who had finally noticed Hermione’s arrival.

Fred and George made their way over with identical grins.

“Not our fault you can’t handle working in the shop,” said Fred.

“A touch of faulty merchandise and a healthy amount of workplace fun and this one gets positively riled,” said George, shining wide, innocent eyes at Hermione. Ginny rolled her eyes.

They gave Hermione hugs in greeting and Ginny saw George slip something into Hermione’s skirt pocket. She shot her brothers warning looks, grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her towards the house.

“Don’t check now,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. “But George just put something in your pocket.”

Hermione looked at her with alarm and Ginny led her into the Burrow. She let go reluctantly once they got safely inside and turned to face her friend.

Hermione was still looking at her with dismay, eyes wide and lips slightly open. She was wearing a blue dress that Ginny remembered from Grimmauld place last summer. It was the one with a scalloped edge and a hemline that showed off Hermione's legs. And it had caused Ginny considerable distress.

All over again, the feelings rushed back. Ugh…

Hermione’s brows creased.

“Gin?”

“Hi. Yeah,” Ginny shook herself. “Spaced.”

She grabbed her mum’s gardening gloves and slipped them on before reaching into Hermione’s dress pocket, not blushing, and pulling out a small bon-bon. She recognized the shiny brown wrapper.

“U-No-Poo,” she told Hermione, grimacing.

Hermione sighed and took it from her, placing it back in her pocket.

“Clever," she said and glanced back out at the twins. "But childish.” They were now taking turns sic’ing gnomes on each other. 

Ginny spotted a large trunk in the sitting room. Hermione had used a secure Floo line from her parents’ place and was staying at the Burrow for two weeks before school started. Harry was due a little later.

“Let’s get your trunk upstairs, shall we?” Ginny asked and walked around Hermione to pick it up, wincing at herself. She sounded like her mother when she was flustered.

She led the way up to her room helping Hermione lug the unwieldy trunk up the narrow, twisting staircase. Finally making it up, they dropped the trunk with a huff and flopped down on their respective beds – mum had set up a cot.

“Merlin’s beard, did you bring _all_ the books from the library home with you?” Ginny wheezed.

“Only the interesting ones,” Hermione replied, winded and staring up at the ceiling.

Hermione continued to lay quietly and Ginny, feeling antsy, got up and started fiddling around. She decided to change out of her dirty gardening clothes, belatedly embarrassed at her muddy knees and her dad's Muggle ‘I’m with stupid’ t-shirt.

“How’s your summer been?” she asked, pulling a fresh shirt on over her sports bra.

“Not bad,” Hermione replied, a little breathlessly.

Ginny looked to see Hermione quickly glance back up at the ceiling. She sat back down on her bed cross-legged and looked at the brunette splayed out on the cot. Ginny was not going to ogle like a creep.

“Rome with mum and dad was fun. And I worked a bit at the office…” Hermione trailed off and looked back at her. “What about you?”

“Well,” Ginny cleared her throat and remembered why they’d been happy to hide in the garden de-gnoming. “Phlem - _Fleur_ \- has been gracing us with her delightful presence for the past month… so that’s been a nightmare.”

“Oooh, is it really that terrible?” Hermione asked sympathetically, sitting up. “You said in your letters…”

“Just wait,” said Ginny grimly. “She once told me I wouldn’t look so much like a boy if I ‘juste tried une eetsy beet’.”

“ _No…_ ”

Ginny felt her face flush in remembered anger.

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

They settled into comfortable chatter about all the ways Fleur Delacour was the absolute worst and how Ginny had been in cahoots with Fred and George plotting against her. Hermione wasn’t quite on board, she was too nice, but Ginny knew it was only a matter of time. She’d see for herself what it was like to live with that monster disguised in a gorgeous body.

* * *

Molly hollered that it was time for dinner, and they made their way downstairs. It was Sunday so the whole family was home - except Percy because he was an utter arse and Charlie because he was in Romania. They sat at the extended picnic table outside and everyone took turns greeting Hermione and asking about her summer. Ginny laughed quietly when Hermione mentioned having read all her school books for the year ‘just a few times’.

They dug into dinner and Ginny got embroiled in a heated debate with Fred about the Bat-Bogey Hex versus the Jelly-Legs Curse. Ginny was one hundred percent pro Bat-Bogey, which she argued was amusing for the caster and distracting and unpleasant for the victim, whereas Fred argued the Jelly-Legs curse had the added advantage of grounding your victim to the spot. They were in the midst of discussing the possible combination when Ginny overheard Fleur and Hermione on her other side. They appeared to have moved from wedding plans to Fleur’s favourite pastime.

“You know, your ‘air would look less like a bird’s nest if you would comb eet in zee mornings,” Fleur told Hermione helpfully, eyeing her natural hair.

Ginny’s head whipped around, and she glared at the blonde, who was smiling angelically at Hermione. The fucking _nerve_ on this bitch. Ginny could feel the familiar flush of anger spreading to the tips of her ears.

“You motherf-,” she began, but stopped abruptly when Hermione placed a hand on her knee.

“I actually put a lot of work into maintaining my hair the way it is,” Hermione said calmly to Fleur. Ginny could feel the older girl's hand trembling slightly on her leg. “Thanks though, Fleur.”

Fleur just looked back at her, confused.

Ginny was ready for verbal and physical annihilation, but before she could say anything Molly took the opportunity to suggest Bill get a haircut. Again. Then her dad started a loud conversation about the Quidditch season and soon everyone’s attention was elsewhere. Hermione gave Ginny’s leg a squeeze beneath the table and Ginny ignored the blush that spread on her cheeks. She placed her own hand on top of Hermione’s and squeezed back. There must have been a reason Hermione dealt with it like that. But still.

An elbow nudged her from the other side, and she turned to see Fred looking at her knowingly. She scowled at him and he put his hands up in mock surrender before leaning in.

“Wanna see who can get the most food into Ron’s goblet before he notices?” he whispered, grinning mischievously. Ginny knew this was an overt distraction tactic but decided to ignore that fact.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she whispered back. “I’m a professional.”

To demonstrate, she tore a chunk of bread from the roll on her plate and tossed it towards Ron’s goblet across the table. Ron, who was still caught up in the Quidditch conversation and loudly defending the Cannon’s Keeper, who was having a particularly rough season, didn’t notice as the bread landed with the smallest plop directly into his cup. Ginny grinned triumphantly at Fred, who took the challenge and lobbed a chunk of carrot. They took a few more turns each, Hermione watching and shaking her head disapprovingly, before Ron went to take a sip. The three of them sat with bated breath as he raised the cup to his mouth and took a distracted gulp... only to spit it back out immediately.

“What the fuck?!” he shouted, looking into his goblet at the floating pieces of food.

“ _Ronald_ ,” came Molly’s voice. “Language!”

“But mum! Someone’s put food in my pumpkin juice!” He looked around accusingly and spotted Ginny and Fred’s innocent expressions across from him.

“You two!” he yelled and made to grab his wand.

“Ronald!” Molly yelled again. “Put your wand away and be _civilized_ at the dinner table.”

Ron sputtered in rage but put his wand back and stared daggers at Ginny and Fred, who were trying unsuccessfully to smother snickers.

Ginny looked over at Hermione who had a fist over her mouth and was looking pointedly at her plate. Her shoulders were shaking slightly.

“Hermione,” Molly spoke up from the other end of the table. “Have you heard from Victor Krum lately?” It seemed the Quidditch conversation had turned to the Bulgarian team.

Ginny and Ron both turned quickly to look at Hermione, though Ginny suspected for different reasons. Ron had a longstanding crush on Krum and had been ridiculously jealous when Hermione went with him to the Yule Ball. Hermione flushed as everyone’s attention turned to her.

“Not recently no,” she mumbled.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Molly said, oblivious to the girl's embarrassment. “Ron said he’d taken a liking to you.”

Hermione shot a look at Ron who abruptly turned bright pink.

“Yes, well, you know, long distance and such…” Hermione looked at Ginny, pleading with her eyes.

Ginny shook herself and diverted everyone’s attention by asking about pudding. 

“Thanks,” Hermione whispered to Ginny, as Molly started floating plates of lemon tart out of the kitchen.

“No problem,” she whispered back looking intently at the plate landing in front of her. She wondered if what Hermione had said was true. She knew Krum and her kept up correspondence for a while, though Hermione hadn’t seemed very romantically interested.

She hesitated, but ultimately couldn’t help herself.

“Is what you said true? You and Krum have stopped talking?” she asked quietly. Hermione’s brow furrowed and she looked curiously at Ginny.

“Yeah, things just fizzled out,” she explained. “He wanted a romantic relationship and I just…” she trailed off. “Well, you know how I am with that stuff. It just wasn’t there for me.”

Ginny nodded and they turned to their pudding, but she felt her heart sink. She did know what Hermione was like with that stuff. She’d once told Ginny that she didn’t quite understand why people were so interested in dating – she was only romantically attracted once she got to know someone, and even then very rarely. It was part of why Ginny had to keep her feelings to herself. What good would it do to tell Hermione when it would probably ruin their friendship, like it had Hermione and Krum’s? Not to mention that she figured Hermione was straight.

No, it was much better to just tamp down her feelings and keep her best friend.

* * *

Later as they were heading up to Ginny’s room, she decided to ask about the Fleur thing. She was still itching to get payback, but Hermione seemed fine.

“Hey ‘Mione,” she looked over at the other girl as they climbed the stairs, the fading sunset illuminating dust motes around them. “Why didn’t you go off at Fleur? I mean, she was being a complete twat, insulting you like that and…”

Hermione looked over at her and sighed.

“A lot of people have questions or suggestions about my hair. Or want to touch it,” she shuddered slightly. “I just learned that sometimes I don’t have the energy.”

They continued to climb in silence.

When they reached Ginny’s room, they started getting ready for bed and Hermione pulled on her favourite pair of purple pyjamas with yellow stars. Ginny thought they were adorable. As Ginny finished changing into her boxers and sleep-shirt, Hermione spoke from behind her.

“I put the U-No-Poo into Fleur’s pudding,” she blurted out and turned to look guiltily at Ginny.

“Hermione!” Ginny burst out laughing.

“I just couldn’t resist! I feel so bad,” Hermione said through the fingers covering her mouth, eyes shining with tears of laughter. Ginny could see a smile beneath her hand.

She was a little shocked Hermione had the guts to be so vengeful, but then she remembered the snitch spell for the DA.

“Well," she comforted her friend. "What’s a little constipation to someone who’s already got a huge stick up their arse?”


	3. Ways To Be A Girl

The next morning, Ginny woke at her usual time, blinking away the remnants of a pleasant dream. A stripe of sunlight cut across her pillow. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and looked over at Hermione’s empty cot. Telltale clinking and kettle-whistling sounds floated up from the kitchen as she got dressed and made her way downstairs. When she rounded the end of the stairs, her mum was pouring tea for Hermione and herself at the table. There was a large book resting next to Hermione with a scribbled-on piece of parchment wedged into it.

“Heading out to practice, love?” Molly asked her, setting down the teapot. “Do you have time for tea?”

Hermione was cradling a teacup and smiling warmly over her shoulder at Ginny.

“Sure,” she surprised herself and dropped into her father’s seat.

“Tell me more about this book, dear,” Molly said to Hermione, picking up their conversation. “I keep meaning to read up on current advances in Charms, but I’m just too busy!” She poured Ginny a cup and then flicked her wand. A large knife started chopping potatoes on the cutting board next to her. There were three pans steaming and sizzling on the stove already and the kitchen smelled like heaven.

“I think you’d like it, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione’s eyes lit up. Ginny smiled, recognizing her expression of excitement. “Francis Oddelly really dives into magic you don’t learn about with a standard wizarding education. There’s a whole chapter on restorative charms alone. And I’ve just gotten to a bit on tooth care that my parents would love,” she trailed off looking embarrassed.

“Fascinating,” Molly smiled kindly at Hermione. “Could I borrow it when you’ve finished?”

“Of course!” Hermione burst out. “I should be done soon!”

Ginny looked again at the giant book. The parchment was placed only about a ninth of the way through and the book had to be over a thousand pages long.

“What are you reading, Gin?” Hermione asked, resting her chin on her fist and looking beyond pleased. _What a nerd…_ Ginny smiled to herself.

“Well, actually-,” she began, when a familiar flowery perfume preceded Fleur’s entrance into the kitchen. Ginny looked over to see the woman framed in glowing morning sunlight.

“Good morning!” she trilled and seemed to glide into the kitchen. Ginny scowled. Fleur’s hair swished majestically around her.

“Well. I’m off to practice,” Ginny said quickly and stood up, avoiding her mother’s eyes.

“I’ll join you!” Hermione exclaimed, grabbing her book off the table and shooting a rueful look at Molly Weasley, whose eyes had turned from kind to accusatory. Before Mrs. Weasley could think of a way to trap them, the two girls walked out of the kitchen, not daring to look back.

“I feel bad for abandoning her,” Hermione said as they walked through the garden to the broom shed.

“Don’t,” Ginny assured her. “Mum will dump Phlegm on us whenever she can. She’s ruthless.” Hermione looked skeptical. She obviously hadn’t grown up with the woman.

Ginny took Fred’s broom from the cupboard and looked askance at Hermione. When she shook her head, Ginny closed the doors and they headed towards Howard’s field.

“What was the book you were going to tell us about?” Hermione asked, as they walked along the dirt path. The girl had a one-track mind.

“My dad got it for me in London. Not sure how he managed to pay for it without looking mental-” she grimaced lovingly. “It’s called Dune and it’s about a boy on this desert planet. It’s quite good, actually, if odd. And strangely philosophical. Have you heard of it?”

“No, but I don’t read much Science Fiction,” Hermione saw Ginny’s look of confusion. “It’s a Muggle category of writing that explores scientific possibilities; aliens and such.”

Ginny considered this for a moment.

“Why don’t _we_ have books like that?” she asked. “You would think witches would write that sort of thing too.”

“Actually, there are some,” Hermione explained. “Though they’re hard to find in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley - they mostly have textbooks and non-fiction. But have you ever been to Hatchard’s in London?”

Ginny hadn’t. Her excursions to London had been confined to Diagon Alley and one disastrous trip to a Muggle auto repair shop with her father.

“It’s got the regular Muggle sections,” Hermione continued, obviously excited. “But it was originally founded by witches, so there’s all sorts of wizard fiction too. I came across the magical section by accident when I was little. I was obsessed with books – stop laughing. Mostly ones with magic, actually. Anyway, I was there with my mother, but we got separated. I was wandering through the isles when I came across this section that seemed to be entirely about magical people and creatures. I had no idea it was hidden to Muggles, of course.

“I wandered out a while later and my mother had been looking all over the shop for me. I tried to show her this story I’d found, about a little witch and her familiar, but she couldn’t see it or hear me talk about it. Muggle-repellant charm I think,” she added.

Ginny thought for a moment, looking out over the sun-drenched hills.

“We should go sometime,” she said. Hermione turned to look at her, surprised. “We could do a whole day in London, Hermione. I haven’t seen a lot of the Muggle stuff and I know there are a bunch of hidden Wizarding spots too.”

“Oh, there are so many book shops I’ve been dying to go to!” Hermione said with glee. “And historical magical landmarks…”

They talked about the places they would visit as they made their way down the path. Ginny wasn’t sure how they would manage it, with the war and school, but Hermione was so excited.

They reached the valley and Ginny hopped onto her broom. She flew up and around beside her friend. 

“Wanna help me practice?”

Hermione hesitated for a moment.

“Alright,” she nodded. “…what do I do?”

Ginny pointed out the apples on the ground and instructed her to throw them as far and high as she could so Ginny could chase them. She made a valiant effort not to laugh at first, but when one of the apples landed five feet from Hermione, she couldn’t help it. The older girl scowled and tried again. After a few more terrible throws they were both in stitches.

“Well, I knew I was no good at sport,” Hermione gasped through giggles, bending over with her hands on her knees. “Probably better off without me.”

She tried a few more times for good measure, her throws getting worse as they laughed harder, until Ginny scooped up the apples and sent her away. She spent a half hour doing drills by herself and when she’d tired herself out, she flew back to where Hermione was sitting beneath the large oak tree. The other girl was so consumed in her reading that she didn’t notice as Ginny sped up to her and stopped. Ginny floated just above the grass a foot in front of her friend.

“Boo,” she said quietly.

Hermione threw her hands up in a panic, her book falling out of her lap, and grabbed for the wand in her skirt pocket. Then recognition lit her eyes and she huffed, lightly pushing the chuckling Ginny off her broom. Ginny fell to the grass with a grunt. Before she knew it, Hermione was sitting on her chest, pointing a wand in her face. She arched a brow, looking threateningly at Ginny. Ginny’s heart pounded.

“Do what you must,” she said, intending to be playful, but sounding too breathy. She was trying not to stare at Hermione’s full lips, which were pursed as if to keep her smile contained. Their eyes caught.

Ginny wasn’t sure what happened, but the air between them seemed to thicken. For a second, she thought she saw Hermione’s eyes dart down to her own lips. The smile slid off the older girl’s face. Abruptly, Hermione stood up and put her wand away.

Ginny’s head was spinning.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly and croaked out, “Don’t startle me like that.” She laughed weakly, “I could have hexed you.”

She looked around herself and picked up the book that lay forgotten on the ground. Then sat down with her back against the tree. Ginny got up, brushing dirt off her shorts, and hesitated briefly before sitting down as well. She tried her best to ignore the weird feeling in her stomach and the awkwardness in the air.

They sat in silence, looking out at the sunny day and the birds flitting between the trees. There were a few clouds floating lazily through the sky. Ginny crossed her legs and her knee brushed Hermione’s. They both jumped and then consciously relaxed.

Ginny sighed.

It was just that, if Hermione could stop being so great and beautiful and smart, then maybe Ginny could stop feeling this way and making things weird. She’d thought maybe distance would help. But as soon as Hermione had shown up at the Burrow, she realized it really hadn’t. If anything, it was worse. So maybe Ginny needed to move on, date someone. At the least seeing somebody else would distract her. Then maybe this would end, and they could be friends… and it wouldn’t be so painful.

“What do you think of Dean?” she asked, breaking their silence.

Hermione shifted next to her against the tree.

“What do you mean?” the older girl asked, then paused for a moment. “Do you fancy him?” There was something sharp in her tone.

“Well, we did hook up a few times last year…” Ginny said. She hadn’t told Hermione about this, but she must have heard. The Hogwarts rumor mill was impressive.

“Hm,” Hermione grunted, frowning.

“And I think he’ll want to get together when we’re back at school,” Ginny continued. She glanced over at Hermione who was biting her lip and had an adorable crease between her eyebrows.

“You don’t like him?” Ginny asked.

“No! No, Dean is great,” Hermione said forcefully. “And you have a lot in common…,” she frowned off into the middle distance. “Quidditch and all,” she muttered.

“Then why are you frowning?” Ginny raised her eyebrows at Hermione.

“What?” Hermione asked, distracted. “No, I’m not.” She frowned.

“Yes. You are,” Ginny laughed. “Why don’t you like him?”

Hermione didn’t respond for a beat, staring across the field.

“It’s not that I don’t like him,” she began. “It’s just…” she turned to search Ginny’s eyes. “Do _you_ like him? Truly?”

Ginny looked away, avoiding Hermione’s gaze.

“I just thought – maybe…” Hermione continued, then looked down at her lap and trailed off. This time Ginny searched Hermione’s expression, her heart and mind racing. _Did she know?_ Hermione sat up straighter, seeming to steel herself.

“I just thought, maybe” -she looked Ginny in the eye- “you might be gay.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. 

“What!” _What?!_

Hermione shook her head.

“Never mind, I really shouldn’t have said anything. Forget I said anything.”

“Why do you think that?” Ginny asked, her voice a touch too loud.

“Gin, I’m sorry,” Hermione said, “I– it was really daft of me.” Ginny thought she heard her mumble, ‘not supposed to-’.

Ginny felt her heart hammering in her ears. She’d known for a while, and she’d written Charlie about it - after he told her about his boyfriend in Romania - but she hadn’t felt ready to tell anyone else. Besides, it was a strange thing to just bring up. It wasn’t like she talked to her parents about her dating life anyway, so why did she have to tell them she was gay? And she hadn’t told Hermione because she was scared that as soon as she knew, _she would know_. She would know that Ginny had feelings for her.

Her mind spun, but one thought kept coming back: maybe it was time. She took a deep breath, feeling like she was diving into an abyss.

“I _am_ gay.”

Hermione looked at her. Ginny felt like the words were settling into the world around her. Then a huge smile spread across Hermione’s face and she flung herself at Ginny, hugging her tightly.

“Oof,” Ginny grunted, but Hermione just squeezed her harder. She eventually let go and stared at Ginny, still beaming.

“Thank you for telling me, Gin,” she said earnestly.

“Well… you’re welcome,” Ginny quirked her lips up. “I guess...” she trailed off, unsure what to say. “I’m not really out to anyone,” she continued. “Besides Charlie.” 

Hermione nodded as if this made complete sense.

“Wait-,” Ginny began suspiciously. “Do you know-,” and her suspicions were confirmed when Hermione’s eyes widened and then flitted away from hers.

“How do you know that Charlie’s gay too?!” She shouted. “Do you just have the world’s best gaydar?!”

Hermione put her head in her hands briefly and then looked back up at her.

“I thought everyone knew!”

“Merlin’s bloody beard,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “You’re truly something, Hermione Granger. Top of her class, a natural and a genius… and possessing the innate ability to tell if someone is queer.”

Hermione blushed and began to shake her head.

“Wait, how long have you known about me?”

The older girl just looked away.

“Hermione,” Ginny said, voice low.

“Well it’s not like I knew for sure!” Hermione exclaimed, looking at Ginny frantically. “I just sort of picked up on clues and had a hunch…”

“Just answer the question, Hermione,” Ginny insisted. The girl was too smart for her own good.

“Er… if I had to… I’d say your second year?”

“Second year?!” Ginny roared. “Even _I_ didn’t know then!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Hermione said, and then started rambling. “It was just – you obviously _really_ liked Lisa; you would blush furiously whenever she talked to you. And you described Harry as pretty but told me you just wanted to be friends with him. You also once said you didn’t get what the fuss about boys was for,” she took a breath and glanced at Ginny. “And then you were really interested when we were talking about Rowena Ravenclaw and you found out that she had a ‘close friend’ who was a girl, which I said probably meant she was her lover…” Hermione trailed off.

Ginny was stunned.

These were great points. All things she’d mulled over herself. She’d just never considered somebody else was paying attention. She stared at Hermione with her mouth slightly agape. And then had a thought.

“Wait, why didn’t you say anything when you found out I was going out with Michael Corner?”

“What was I supposed to say?” Hermione asked, looking at Ginny earnestly. “‘Aren’t you gay, Ginny?’?”

Ginny took her point. But still. All that time she’d thought – and Hermione had just known…

“But, Gin, come on,” Hermione said, seeming to catch the drift of her thoughts. “I could never know for sure unless you told me. And I would never assume I knew more about your sexuality than you! And I knew that if you were gay - at least I hoped - that you would come out to me when you were ready.”

Ginny let out a sigh and leaned back against the tree. She shook her head at Hermione incredulously before closing her eyes. She was overwhelmed. Hermione continued to stare at her for a moment and then rested against the tree as well.

“Oh my god,” Ginny said quietly, and Hermione groaned.

* * *

They headed back to the cottage soon after, making easy conversation and pointedly not talking about it. Ginny needed some time to process and Hermione seemed to sense that.

After lunch, Ginny got roped into doing the dishes with her mother and Fleur. When she complained about sexism, Molly reminded her that Arthur or Ron cleaned up ninety percent of the time. Ginny still reserved the right to be grumpy.

Thirty excruciating minutes later, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Hermione was reading on Ginny’s bed and looked up as she walked in.

“Want to do our nails?” she asked. “I bought some new varnish a while ago.”

Ginny wasn’t really a painted-nails person, but she decided to give it a shot. She thought it might be Hermione’s way of apologizing for earlier – not that she really needed to. Ginny had gotten over the initial shock. Her friend pulled out a small midnight blue bottle. They sat down on the floor across from each other, in Ginny’s room this meant their knees were already touching, and Hermione set up a piece of tissue paper on each of her crossed legs. Ginny realized she had no idea how this worked.

Hermione shook the varnish bottle gently. She reached over and took one of Ginny’s hands and placed it on top of the paper on one of her knees. It was a strange setup, but Hermione smiled across at her. The older girl opened the bottle and slowly began painting it onto Ginny’s short nails. It was oddly satisfying to watch. Ginny sat hypnotized as Hermione finished a first coat.

“Mum’s going to love this,” she thought out loud, as Hermione started on her left hand. She looked up into Hermione’s eyes and tried very hard not to think about how romantic this was. How romantic and strange the whole day had been. “She’s always trying to get me to be more girly.”

Hermione hummed thoughtfully, “There are lots of ways to be a girl.”

“I know,” Ginny shook her head. “I meant, more like the girl she was, I guess. More feminine. She wanted a daughter so badly and then she got me.”

Hermione tutted and Ginny knew what she was going to say.

“I know she loves me the way I am,” Ginny explained. “I just also know that I disappoint her. She used to buy me these hideously frilly pink robes and little notebooks with flowers on them. And I just never got it.”

Hermione nodded, finishing her left hand and moving to do a second coat on the right.

“What’s it like being an only child?” Ginny asked.

Hermione bit her lip, thinking.

“Well, I guess there’s a lot less sharing. Of everything,” she quirked her lips at Ginny. “Clothing, toys, attention.” She paused to wipe away some excess polish.

“And that means there’s a lot of pressure,” Hermione continued. “Although I’m sure older siblings is its own kind. But I get a lot of my parent’s focus. They want me to succeed and they know how hard it is, being who I am. They’re very supportive, though, and I put a lot of the pressure on myself.”

"Don’t you get worn out?” Ginny asked, thinking of how ragged the other girl got around exams.

Hermione laughed, “You should have seen me in third year.”

“I did,” Ginny said quickly, and then wanted to smack herself. “I mean, I noticed you were busy.”

“You can’t tell anyone, but” -Hermione shook the bottle- “I had a time turner.” Ginny’s jaw dropped. “I was taking a double course load.”

“They gave you a time turner?!” Hermione shushed her. “At 13?” she asked quietly, but with just as much shock. It was ludicrous. But also, very typically Hermione.

“Honestly, it was overwhelming. I’m taking a reasonable number of courses this year - if all goes according to plan with my O.W.L.s,” Hermione paused to look off anxiously. Then turned back to Ginny’s nails, “And I actually went to a therapist this summer. She gave me some ways to cope with the stress, which should help with whatever horrendous things happen this year,” she joked.

Ginny just gave her a half-hearted smile. They had agreed to avoid talking about the war while Hermione was at the Burrow. They wanted to enjoy their vacation, and both of them needed a break.

Ginny looked down to see Hermione was done with the dark blue. Now she shook a bottle of clear liquid and started applying it. It gave Ginny’s nails a glossy look. Once she’d finished, Hermione started on her own. Ginny was relieved she hadn’t asked her to try it – would’ve been a bloody disaster. Not to mention she didn’t know how she’d concentrate with Hermione’s hands in her own.

They sat in silence as Hermione worked. The house felt oddly quiet, very unlike the near-constant cacophony Ginny had grown up in. Her dad was at work, as he was most of the time these days. Molly was out in the garden avoiding Fleur, who was doing Merlin knows what. The twins were at the shop, probably bustling with customers even on a Monday. She was briefly surprised that Ron hadn’t burst in on them until she realized it was only one in the afternoon. He was probably still asleep.

She had been trying to keep busy this summer; practicing Quidditch, joking around with Fred and George, helping her mother around the house. She wasn’t normally an anxious person, but it was impossible not to be these days. They had Order members visiting at odd times and she kept overhearing stressed conversations between her parents. Charlie was in Romania doing work for the Order, likely in a ridiculous amount of danger, meanwhile Percy was working for the enemy.

She took a deep breath, casting the familiar thoughts away, and looked at Hermione. The other girl had her lips pursed in concentration. She painted each nail with precision. Ginny still couldn’t quite believe that she had actually come out to her. And that Hermione had already known, for fuck’s sake. At least it didn’t seem like she was looking at Ginny differently. It was a weight off Ginny’s chest to have said it out loud. And maybe it was a good thing that she wouldn’t be getting back together with Dean; it wouldn’t have been fair to him. Instead of dating a boy, perhaps she could date a girl and have her first gay kiss. Kissing Milly Bullstone on the cheek at five years old hardly counted, though it had been a thrilling end to their pretend wedding. And pretend princess rescue mission. Ginny had been the one doing the rescuing of course.

Hermione finished her nails and placed them next to Ginny’s, looking up at her with raised brows and a smile, their faces mere inches away.

“What do you think?” Hermione asked, already knowing they were perfect.

Her contradictions amazed Ginny. She was so confident in some areas and self-conscious in others. She was serious and smart, but goofy. She could be fierce, almost aloof, and then so tender. She wasn’t the kind of girl to need rescuing; she was far more likely to rescue Ginny. But she wasn’t some unshakable thing either. Ginny couldn’t imagine how she was feeling, with her parents being Muggles and the recent Death Eater attacks.

She made another vow to distract Hermione while she was here, to make her laugh and have fun. And if that was at the expense of Ginny’s sanity, then so be it.


	4. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Enjoy :)

_Ginny felt the warm press of their bodies together. It was heaven. She’d waited so long and finally they were touching like she wanted._

_The other girl was looking down into her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. As Ginny smiled back, the girl started kissing a trail down Ginny’s body. She reached her destination and Ginny arched in pleasure. Soft light illuminated the midnight blue sheets tangled around them._

_Suddenly they were flipped, Ginny on top of the other girl. Dark brown curls were spread on the pillow. Ginny felt the echoes of her orgasm thrumming through her. She kissed soft lips and began to move downwards. Before she could go far, the girl stopped her with a hand in her hair. She pulled Ginny up gently and brought her close. Their legs fit together, and Ginny was pulled into a hug. The girl kissed her nose affectionately._

Ginny drifted back to consciousness, opening her eyes slowly.

She stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, still feeling the warmth and arousal of her dream. She tried to shift and felt the tangle of her sheets around her body, twisted between her legs and around her arms. She was also very hot.

Suddenly she remembered she was not alone. She shot a look over a Hermione’s bed and saw the girl’s face fully relaxed in sleep.

Then another realization struck her.

_Oh no…_

She’d dreamt of them. Together. That was a first.

She needed to take a cold shower - now.

She slowly eased up and then swung her legs out of bed. As she did, her bedframe creaked ominously, and she winced.

Hermione stirred across from her, then slowly opened her eyes, looking right at Ginny.

“Morning,” she said, voice husky with sleep, and let out a big yawn.

Ginny froze, feeling the sweat cooling on her skin. She felt like Hermione could see right through her – right to the dream she’d had. She couldn’t stop the full body blush that spread across her. Fuckity fuck fuckbuckets.

“Morning,” she responded, her voice uncharacteristically squeaky.

Hermione rolled onto her back and stretched.

“I had such a weird dream…” Hermione muttered, and Ginny turned an even deeper shade of crimson. She had to get out of there.

“Going showering!” she said and left the room quickly without looking back. _Going showering??_

She made her way to the bathroom and alternated between dousing herself in freezing cold and then boiling hot water. Moments from her dream kept popping into her thoughts unbidden. She moaned and rested her head against the cold tiles.

She had to get it together and not be weird today.

Ah fuck.

Realizing the only way out of her current mental state, she took care of business quickly and quietly, drawing on the images that were bombarding her consciousness. She finished and washed up and tried to mentally reset. And then realized she would have to go back to her room in only a towel. In her rush she hadn’t grabbed her clothes for the day, and there was no way she was getting back into her sweaty pyjamas.

She took the bulkiest towel from the cupboard - one with a pattern of brightly coloured fish swimming around it - and walked back to her room. She opened the door slowly, hoping against hope that Hermione was already gone.

She was sitting on her cot with her bag of toiletries in hand.

“My turn,” she mumbled sleepily and passed Ginny with a big yawn.

Ginny let out a sigh of relief. She dressed quickly and went downstairs, unable to bear the thought of Hermione walking into her room in just a towel. They’d changed in the same room plenty of times, both just turning their backs, but Ginny could not handle it this morning. In fact, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to handle it.

The next morning…

_They were in her bed at Hogwarts. Large red curtains enclosed them on all sides and the heavy quilt pressed down on them. Ginny had a vague sense that they had been forced to share, though she couldn’t remember why._

_She was resting on her side facing the other girl, who was looking at her with wide brown eyes, sparkling in the meagre light. The girl shuffled forward and all of a sudden, their whole bodies were in contact. Ginny’s arm was around the girl’s back and she snuggled into Ginny’s neck. Then the girl titled her head up, looking at Ginny’s mouth with an intent that felt like heat._

_Their lips slid against each other and Ginny melted._

Ginny turned over, searching for that wonderful feeling, but she was awake. She had a smile on her lips as she yawned and stretched. And felt a familiar warmth and arousal.

Bloody hell. She’d dreamed about Hermione again.

This time Ginny got up quickly and snuck past the sleeping girl without waking her. When she came back from the bathroom Hermione was still sleeping soundly, so Ginny left to do her Quidditch practice. It was much nicer when Hermione came with her, but Ginny needed the space.

She did her exercises distractedly, her mind elsewhere. The problem was that she usually just went for what she wanted, because Merlin knows no one hands it to you. But this time she couldn’t. This time she had to swallow it. And that was proving more difficult than expected.

She returned home determined to avoid being alone with Hermione. They helped Molly with the garden, pulling up weeds and tending to the more delicate magical plants. When Ron woke at noon, the three of them hid from Phlegm and played cutthroat exploding snap and wizard’s chess over a picnic. After dinner, Ginny and Hermione read quietly in the sitting room. Ginny was getting really into _Dune_. And when they went up to bed, Ginny said goodnight and shut her eyes tightly, imagining herself playing in the Quidditch finals. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could change her dreams.

_Ginny was racing towards the goal posts, two players hot on her tail. She swerved to avoid a Bludger and hugged the Quaffle tightly to her side. When she was within range, she fainted left and then shot right. The Quaffle soared through the centre post and the crowd cheered wildly. Seconds later the whistle blew – the Seeker had caught the Snitch and they had won the game! She landed on the ground and was surrounded by her team, cheering her name._

_They started their triumphant march off the field when Ginny was hit full force with a hug. She recognized the arms wrapped around her and the girl’s scent immediately – books, lavender, and vanilla. She hugged her back._

_“You did it!” the girl yelled, pulling away to look at her with a huge smile. She was practically vibrating with excitement._

_Suddenly, the girl leaned in, pulling Ginny’s face up towards hers. Their lips collided fiercely for a moment before she retreated to smile at Ginny. Ginny leaned in to recapture her lips. They snogged with intensity, the girl’s arms coming around Ginny’s neck and Ginny’s hands digging into her waist._

_Somehow, she was pressing the girl up against a wall. She slid a leg between hers._

_The girl let out a small sound of pleasure and-_

Ginny opened her eyes, wrenched out of her dream, only to stare directly into Hermione’s. The other girl was across the room in her cot, facing Ginny, looking at her.

Ginny blinked sleepily, having trouble transitioning back to reality. She’d been very deep asleep; she felt like she’d been kilometres under water and then pulled directly to the surface. She turned onto her back.

“What were you dreaming about?” Hermione asked softly.

Ginny shifted again, pulling the covers up to her chin as if they would protect her.

“Errr…,” she tried to get her lethargic brain to work. “A – uh – a Quidditch match. We won.”

She tried a cocky smile and shot it at Hermione, but the other girl was looking at her with confusion.

“Quidditch?” she asked.

“Yeah, um, I had just won us the championship final.”

“Hm.”

“You were there actually,” she said. What was she doing? “Cheering me on. And Harry and Ron and Luna…”

“Oh,” Hermione said shortly.

Ginny’s heart was still racing from the dream. Bloody hell. She’d dreamed about Quidditch, like she’d hoped, but her mind had figured out a way to have both.

“That explains why you said my name, I guess,” Hermione said quietly.

Ginny froze.

“Oh?” she asked faintly. “I don’t normally sleep-talk.”

Hermione was quiet and Ginny panicked silently. The question was _how_ she had said Hermione’s name. Because in her dream she had moaned it.

* * *

Hermione didn’t question her more and they had a nice morning while Ginny tried to keep her cool. Ron was coming in handy as a buffer. He was completely oblivious to any weirdness between them, which also convinced Ginny it was entirely one-sided. Why would Hermione be weird around her anyways? She wasn’t the one having annoying and inconvenient hot dreams every night. She wasn’t the one who had come out to the person she had feelings for.

In the afternoon, the three of them went swimming in the nearby pond. They splashed around in the water - which was only moderately murky - and Ron tried to dunk Ginny. Only to find himself the dunkee, of course. He should’ve known better, after all these years. He was taller but she was stronger.

While Ron tried to get her back and she successfully dunked him a few more times, Hermione went to lie on the large flat rock by the water. It had each of the Weasley kids’ names carved into it. Ron almost got Ginny when Hermione pulled herself up onto the rock and revealed her sporty one-piece swimsuit. It wasn’t meant to be sexy. But, well.

Ron and Ginny eventually gave up the fight and joined Hermione on the rock. It was nicely warmed by the summer sun. Ginny’s sports bra and shorts weren’t really a proper bathing suit, but she refused to wear the purple bikini her mother had bought. Molly had been so proud when she’d shown it to Ginny; the Muggle sales clerk had told her it was what all the girls were wearing. It was not what this girl would wear – not in this lifetime.

Ginny looked down at her stomach and spotted a new freckle. Hermione was squinting at her, one hand shading her eyes, and Ginny pointed it out.

“Don’t you need sunblock?” Hermione asked. It looked like she was getting overheated – her cheeks were pink.

“Mum charmed us before we left.”

They lay there for a while, basking in the rare sunshine. It was one of the few days without rain in the forecast this summer.

“I’m going back,” Ron said. “I’m starving.”

“We ate an _hour_ ago,” Hermione said with exasperated wonder.

“Exactly,” he replied and walked away.

“So,” Hermione began, when they’d been lying in silence for a while. “Are there any girls you fancy?” Ginny’s heart leapt. “Ms. Luna Lovegood perhaps?”

“Hermione,” Ginny complained, throwing an arm over her face and trying to stay calm.

“Come on. All that strange jewellery and beautiful long blonde hair…” Hermione wiggled her eyebrows.

“Do _you_ have feelings for Luna?” Ginny asked, laughing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Hermione responded archly.

“Hardy har,” Ginny ignored the silly spike of jealousy and turned to look at her friend. “Well, do you fancy any boys?”

“No,” Hermione said. “I don’t.” But Ginny could see her nose turning pink.

“Ah ha!” she exclaimed. She didn’t want to know but she also really did. “You do! Who is it?”

Hermione just shook her head.

“Seamus?” Ginny asked. Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Neville? _Harry?_ ” she gasped dramatically. Hermione swatted her.

“Stop.”

“Come on, you can tell me.”

“Wait a minute, how did this get turned on me? You’re the one who’s supposed to be answering the question!”

“Fine,” Ginny said. Hermione looked surprised but eager. “No, I do not fancy any boys.”

“Ginny!”

“Now it’s your turn.”

“Okay, fine, how’s this? If I tell you something, will you tell me something?”

“You should have been in Slytherin.”

“The world couldn’t handle it,” Hermione said, nose pointed high. She was joking but Ginny didn’t doubt it.

“Alright, I agree to your terms,” Ginny shook Hermione’s hand seriously, making her laugh. “You first.”

Hermione shot her a look, “Fine.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment and lay back on the rock looking up at the sky.

“I do fancy someone,” she said slowly. Ginny’s heart raced. “But it’s not possible with them.”

Ginny felt a bit nauseous.

“Why not?” she asked.

Hermione just shook her head, “Your turn.”

“Wait a minute, that wasn’t very much information!” Ginny protested. Hermione huffed.

“Well that’s all you’re getting. Now cough it up, Weasley.”

“Fine.” Ginny paused for a moment. “…It’s not Malfoy is it?” she asked in horror.

Hermione turned to her in disbelief.

“ _No_ , it’s not Malfoy. Good lord, Ginevra …”

Ginny sighed in relief and they both laughed.

“Now stop stalling,” Hermione gave her a pointed look.

“Alright, alright,” she took a deep breath. “I’m in the same boat as you.”

Hermione looked confused.

“I mean,” Ginny explained. “It’s not possible with the person – girl – I fancy either.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked.

“You didn’t give _me_ more than that!”

Hermione grunted in frustration. Then she turned to look Ginny full in the eye.

“But you can tell me, Gin.”

“And you can tell me,” Ginny responded.

They looked at each other for a long moment. When they realized neither one of them was backing down, they both collapsed back onto the rock.

“Well, aren’t we hopeless,” Ginny said. She was trying not to think too hard about what this meant – that Hermione had feelings for someone else.

“I can share my ‘Unrequited Love’ mixed tape with you if you want,” Hermione responded.

Ginny covered her face with her arm again and smiled. What a dork. What a lovely, confusing dork.

They lay in the sun for a bit longer and then walked back to the Burrow.

* * *

“I think Tonks is really upset about Sirius,” Hermione said as she closed Ginny’s door behind her. She had gone downstairs to get water a few minutes ago.

When she came over to sit on the edge of Ginny’s bed, Ginny put her book down.

“She’s here again, with your mum in the kitchen,” Hermione explained. “She was talking about someone never coming back and Molly was comforting her.”

Ginny thought for a moment and realized she knew what it was. Tonks hadn’t known Sirius very well or been particularly close to him. It had to be about Ollie. She knew Tonks wouldn’t mind if she told Hermione – the Auror was open about her sexuality. The only reason Hermione didn’t know was because she hadn’t spent as much time at Grimmauld place. 

“I don’t think it’s Sirius she’s upset about,” Ginny explained. “I think it’s her girlfriend.”

Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed. Ginny suppressed the familiar urge to smooth the crease with her thumb.

“Her girlfriend, Ollie, has been undercover for a long time,” Ginny continued. “Last summer Tonks told me Ollie had gone back to her estranged pureblood family, _definitely_ You-Know-Who supporters,” -Ginny winced. She was breaking their rule to not talk about the war - “and was working for the Order, collecting information.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide.

“I think not being able to see her is getting to Tonks,” Ginny continued. “I heard her and mum talking about it at the beginning of summer.”

“God, that’s _awful_.”

Ginny nodded in agreement – it sounded like hell.

Hermione looked at Ginny and Ginny didn’t know what she was thinking but her heart began to beat faster.

“Can I-?” Hermione gestured at the space beside Ginny at the head of the bed. Ginny nodded, not sure what to expect, but Hermione just sat next to her, resting her back against the pillows, and then lay her head on Ginny’s shoulder. They sat like that for a moment.

Ginny knew her friend was struggling. They had both been going on like nothing was happening, like things were fine, and Ginny had been actively distracting her. But always under the surface there was this Hermione. The one who was terrified – for her parents, for Harry, for everyone she cared about who was in danger.

“I know we said we wouldn’t talk about it…” Hermione began softly. Ginny brought her arm around Hermione’s shoulder. “But I’m so worried, Gin,” Hermione’s voiced cracked a bit. Ginny’s heart broke.

“I know,” she said softly.

They lay there for a while, Ginny rubbing soothing circles on Hermione’s arm. She didn’t realize the other girl was crying until a drop hit her shoulder. Hermione sniffled lightly and wiped her eyes, seeming to shake it off.

“I had no idea about Tonks,” she said, voice scratchy.

“Hmm…” Ginny said mock-pensively. “Perpetually short hair, lots of piercings, rides a motorcycle, regularly wears men’s robes…”

Hermione gave a watery laugh.

“Come on, she could have been straight,” she said with a sniffle.

“Sure…”

“Gender presentation and sexuality are two different things,” Hermione said primly.

“Mmhmm,” Ginny responded. “You’re not the only one who’s read Judith Butler.”

Hermione sat up abruptly and looked at her, mouth open. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

“I’m not just a jock,” Ginny said, feigning offense. Mind you, she had only read a couple chapters. But still.

“Sorry,” Hermione apologized. “I just didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing.”

Ginny just looked at her. Hermione flushed and looked away.

“Right,” she said. “Well, now that I’ve made a fool of myself…”

She made to get off the bed, but Ginny stopped her.

“I still don’t get a lot of it actually,” Ginny said. “I was just curious. I really want to read her work on wizarding culture.”

“Right?!” Hermione nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been meaning to as well. I love that she’s written from both Wizarding and Muggle perspectives…”

As they got lost in conversation, Ginny couldn’t help but marvel at the way Hermione’s whole body lit up with excitement. She was glad she’d found a way to take her friend’s mind off things and it was nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff. She didn’t know anyone else who was interested, but she should’ve known Hermione would be.

When Ginny mentioned that Tonks was pansexual, a term she’d learned from the woman herself, Hermione was intrigued. She listened with rapt attention as Ginny explained what it meant.

“I think that’s me,” she said. Ginny looked at her confused, not daring to read into it.

Hermione seemed to gather courage, sitting taller.

“I think I’m pansexual too,” she said, and Ginny’s heart took off at a gallop. “I mean, I don’t fancy people often, but when I do it seems to be independent of gender. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I hadn’t come across a label that fit.”

Ginny didn’t let herself think on it too long, just looked back at Hermione sitting across from her, and resolved to let herself freak out later.

“So, you _do_ have feelings for Lovegood…” she teased.

Hermione hit her with a pillow.

Ginny was scared of what she would dream tonight.


	5. Stars, Firewhisky, and a Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took a long break.  
> Cus pandemic... and then transphobia.
> 
> I'm still navigating how I want to participate in the fandom. Ironically, writing this story was helping me figure out my gender identity. 
> 
> Anyways I decided to come back. Because we deserve some fucking happy endings. 
> 
> I hope you're all staying safe and taking care of yourselves. <3
> 
> (and apologies for the angst in this chapter! it's just where we're at in the arc, but it'll get better I swear)

Ginny woke abruptly the next morning. She looked down to see Hermione fast asleep next to her. When she shifted, sharp tingles spread down her arm from where it had been crammed beneath her body to make room on the twin bed. The two of them had talked into the early morning and finally fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

She took in Hermione’s sleeping face, just a few inches from her own on the pillow. Her dark eyelashes were long and fluttering lightly against her cheeks. Her eyes darted back and forth behind her eyelids. Hermione looked so right next to her. It made Ginny’s heart swoop painfully and her palms sweat. And then, seeing the matching dark blue of their nails side by side, she had an embarrassing realization. The sheets from her first hot dream had been the exact shade of Hermione’s nail varnish. Her subconscious was an arsehole.

Suddenly Ginny was too warm. And panicking about morning breath and body odour and the possibility of drool. Just as she resolved to climb over Hermione as sneakily as possible, the girl stirred. Her hand nudged Ginny’s, which was pressed to the bed between them. Then their knees touched beneath the blanket. It was as effective as a body bind charm. She froze in place, feeling the warm contact intently, all thoughts drifting away.

She lay still until she had caught her breath, not daring to move a muscle. Then her mind raced, skipping over her dreams and the numerous excruciating moments over the past week she’d been bursting with things she could never say or do. No matter what she did, no matter how she pushed her feelings down, they kept coming back. She knew what the problem was, of course. If she wanted to get over this she would have to pull away from Hermione for real. Just the thought of which made her stomach drop.

As she lay there, Hermione’s revelation from the night before came back to her. There was a chance the person she fancied was a girl. Ginny’s blood boiled as she considered the possibilities: Lavender, Parvati, Abbot, Bones… And why wasn’t it possible with them? Did one of these prats not realize how amazing Hermione was? Were they thick enough to reject the smartest and most beautiful girl in the school?

She was still stewing when Hermione shifted again, and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled sleepily at Ginny and stretched, making their legs collide again in many small ways.

“’lo,” she mumbled and settled back down, facing Ginny on her side. “You’ve got this one freckle…” she said dreamily, and lightly tapped Ginny’s nose with the pad of her finger. Ginny’s ears burned. Hermione took her hand back quickly and cleared her throat.

Ginny tried to scrape some thoughts together.

“Were you dreaming?” she finally croaked.

Hermione cleared her throat again and rubbed a hand over her face. She rolled onto her back. Her nose was decidedly pink. Maybe they had spent too much time in the sun.

“I was, actually,” Hermione began tentatively. “About, er, the library.”

Ginny laughed out loud.

“Even in your dreams you’re at the library?” she asked incredulously.

“Well,” Hermione looked embarrassed and smiled sheepishly. “Yes.”

“So...” Ginny prompted when she didn't elaborate. "What happened?"

“Well, I was running through the aisles, trying to find a book on Transfiguration,” Hermione began, frowning slightly. “And then I was on a broomstick, flying through the stacks... I was starting to panic – because I hate flying – when I realized someone was on the broom behind me, guiding it. I tried to look around, but I couldn’t. Just when I’d finally found the book, I turned to thank them - and then,” she paused. Her cheeks flushed. “Woke up before I could see their face.”

“Do you think it means something?” Ginny asked.

“I don’t believe in that sort of thing,” Hermione replied quickly.

“Right. I forgot you hate Divination,” Ginny teased.

“I don’t _hate_ it,” said Hermione adamantly, crossing her arms. “I just think it’s utter rubbish and that precious school resources are being wasted on teaching students to stare into glass spheres, come up with ridiculous predictions, and listen to the ramblings of a blatant fraud.”

“Oh, is that all?” Ginny laughed.

Hermione smacked her arm.

“Who do you think it was?" Ginny asked. "Helping you in the dream?” 

Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it. Then just shook her head.

“It’s not important,” she said. Ginny started to protest, powerfully interested now, but Hermione cut across her, “What did _you_ dream about?”

Ginny gave her a look but decided to let it go. She would ruminate on her own time – and probably drive herself mad.

“I didn’t actually,” she said, and realized it was true. Thank Merlin for that small mercy. She couldn’t imagine the consequences of dreaming about her friend when she was actually _in Ginny’s bed_. Just the thought made her blush crimson.

Hermione did not fail to notice. She pointed at her accusingly.

“You’re lying.”

Ginny sighed.

“C’mon,” Hermione needled. “I told you mine.”

Ginny shook her head.

“Did you dream about the girl you like?” Hermione joked. There was a slight tension in her face that Ginny couldn’t read.

Ginny tried to look unsuspicious, but Hermione was not having it. Having feelings for someone this brilliant was turning out to be a colossally bad idea. 

“You can tell me,” Hermione said seriously. “Isn’t that what friends are for?”

Ginny realized she wasn’t going to let this go.

“Fine, yes, I’ve dreamt about her,” she said grudgingly. “But I didn’t have one last night.”

“Then you’ve been dreaming about her often…” Hermione deduced.

Merlin’s fucking beard. Ginny clamped her mouth shut stubbornly.

“You must really like this girl,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“Hm,” Ginny mumbled. She tried desperately to think of a way to steer the conversation away. In literally any other direction.

“What do you want to do today?” Planning was usually a good distraction tactic with Hermione.

“Nice try,” Hermione said dryly. “I’m going to get it out of you one of these days.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Ginny sighed, realizing it was true. “But until then you’ll have to live with the mystery.”

Hermione let out a frustrated harrumph.

“Speaking of mysteries…” Ginny said, unable to help herself. The question that had been gnawing at her for the past ten minutes burst out, “Is the person you fancy a girl?”

Hermione squirmed next to her.

“I’m not giving you this information for free,” she said.

“You really should have been in Slytherin.”

“Ah that pesky blood purity thing.”

“Fine, I’ll trade you one fact,” Ginny proposed.

Hermione wasted no time. “Okay, what’s her name?”

“Nope. Disqualified.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Fine. What house?”

Ginny hesitated for a moment, her heart rate picking up.

“Gryffindor.”

If they kept at this, Hermione would piece together the clues. There weren’t that many girls in Gryffindor to choose from. Hermione shot her a look, wearing a pensive expression Ginny associated with the library. Then the other girl picked at the edges of the blanket, betraying her nerves.

“Yes, mine is a girl,” she confessed finally, pulling on a loose thread.

Ginny didn’t know if this was better or worse.

It was the last Monday in August, only a week before the end of summer break, and a Goblin Bank Holiday. Fred and George had a large supply of homemade magical fireworks ready for the occasion and a few other surprises Ginny couldn’t pry out of them. Molly had given them all strict orders to have fun, which apparently included party preparation chores, so Ginny was currently ‘helping’ Fred string twinkle lights through the bushes. Which meant she was sitting atop the hedge while he did it magically in about five seconds.

“So…” Fred said casually. “How have things been here? Any _drama_?” He raised his eyebrows at her. Ginny scowled at him.

“What are you on about?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Fred said innocently. “Unrelated, how’s Hermione settling in?”

Ginny chose not to dignify that with a response. She didn’t know how he knew, but it didn’t surprise her. Fred and George had always been good at reading their siblings’ body language. Usually this information was weaponized for their own amusement. But every so often, especially for Ginny, it was used to help.

This was not one of those times.

“I was talking to Ron,” Fred continued unfazed. “And he hasn’t seen much of you two.”

“That’s just not true,” Ginny scoffed and shook her head, looking away to hide the red of her cheeks. “Git.”

Fred smirked and leaned against the bush next to her, watching the others setting up around the garden. Hermione was helping Bill transform a cluster of stumps into a picnic table. Fleur was with Ron, setting up the music, and turning him into a bumbling fool. Through the windows they could see Molly racing around the kitchen, shooing Arthur this way and that.

“Seriously, Gin,” Fred said, dropping the smile and leaning back against the bush to look at her.

Ginny sighed. She watched Hermione grin triumphantly as Bill followed her instructions and the stumps merged to form a large wooden table.

“Nothing’s happening,” Ginny said quietly. “And I’m fine. Really,” she answered his unasked question.

She could feel Fred’s eyes on her and when she looked over, he gave her a disbelieving sort of half-smile.

“By the way,” he looked across at Bill, who was now cracking open a crate of Butterbeer. “While us adults are busy by the campfire tonight, I might lose track of a bottle of Firewhisky. It would be _terrible_ if it ended up in the hands of youngsters,” he said deadpan. “So… please make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Ginny shook her head her brother but felt her lips twitch.

“You’re making the huge assumption…” she said. “That Hermione will be willing to break the rules with me.”

“Hm,” Fred hummed, and Ginny followed his gaze to Hermione, who was smiling at Ginny and beckoning her over. “I think she’d do anything for you.”

Ginny started and turned towards him, but Fred was already walking away. He shouted gleefully at George, who just had arrived with the explosives – ahem – legal fireworks.

They all stuffed themselves full of grilled sausage, fresh vegetables, and Molly’s baking. And then spent a considerable amount of time lying on the ground moaning. Many complained they could never eat again. Molly and Arthur went off to the kitchen for a suspiciously long time - that none of their children wanted to think about - leaving the rest of them to start the campfire. When Bill had coaxed it to a gentle roar, they sat gazing into the flames and telling horrible dad jokes – most of which Arthur had indeed cracked.

Just as Bill finished telling a particularly crass one, Arthur and Molly emerged with slices of pie and ice cream. Molly tutted at Bill, but Arthur let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

They dug into their pudding, forgetting all earlier declarations. Arthur sat down next to Ginny and gave her a loving pat on the knee. 

“How are you then, Ginny, hm? Having a good time with Hermione?”

She nodded, glancing at the girl on her other side.

“Have you started that Muggle book yet? The Scientifikal Fiction one?”

Ginny suppressed a laugh.

“It’s ‘Science Fiction’, dad,” she said with a smile, and he gestured with his fork to go on. “It’s really good... Did you know there’s wizard fiction like that?”

“Really!” he exclaimed. “Tell me more…”

They fell into easy conversation, the way she never seemed to be able to with her mum. Arthur mentioned some of the funnier aspects of his otherwise gruesome job and Ginny told him about her Quidditch training and hopes for the school year. They hadn’t gotten to spend much time together this summer and she had missed him. 

Then they overheard Bill and George arguing about the lyrics to ‘Old Man Merlin’ and she sighed. She knew what was coming.

“Boys, boys!” Arthur jumped in loudly. “It’s ‘ _down the winding rivers of Horden_ ’ not ‘ _down to the gallows of Borden_ ’.”

And from there, to none of his children’s surprise, he jumped into song, letting his rumbling voice ring out proudly.

Despite a few groans, the group fell silent and listened.

_Ohhh the Old Man Merlin sat on his rump_

_Asking the stars for more than this stump_

_He cast his three letters into the river_

_Hoping for things only she could deliver_

Everyone but Hermione chimed in for the chorus.

_One… to own something better than silver_

_Two… for guidance through evil unfamiliar_

_Three… to help others just as well as the river_

They sang through the many verses until only Arthur knew the words. After listening awhile, Hermione sang along for the chorus. Bill and Fleur started dancing and the twins performed a jig before pulling Molly up with them. She laughed loud and delighted in a way that made Ginny's heart fill. At last, the final triumphant note rang out across the night and left them all grinning around the flames. Molly gave Arthur a loving kiss, eliciting shouts from her children and a smile from Hermione. When Arthur and Molly continued to stare into each other’s eyes the family broke into conversation again.

Fred caught Ginny’s eye from across the fire and winked. Then stealthily snagged a bottle of Firewhisky from the table. Ginny caught Hermione’s attention.

“I have a surprise,” she said under her breath and shone her full mischievous grin at Hermione. The other girl looked at her skeptically but couldn’t suppress a smile as she stood up.

“You’re a terrible influence,” she whispered and they walked away quietly.

They passed Fred on their way out of the garden and Ginny took the whiskey from him and a blanket from the table.

“Ginevra Weasley,” Hermione said in her Prefect voice. “ _What is that?_ ”

Ginny just grinned at her and pulled Hermione along. Finally, they reached her favourite stargazing spot on a slope not far from the Burrow. They sat down side by side and wrapped themselves in the knitted blanket. Ginny popped the top off the bottle.

She glanced over at Hermione, who was watching her, and took a brave sip.

“Eeeechh,” she gritted out, making a face. “Yup, that burns.”

She offered the bottle to Hermione, who hesitated for a moment and then mumbled something that sounded like, “Fuck it,” and brought the bottle to her lips.

She took a generous swig and made an identical face.

They took turns passing it back and forth, slowly getting used to the burn in their throats. Hermione coughed.

“I’ve never heard of that song before. The one your dad sung,” she said, looking up at the stars. A few were starting to show.

“It’s one of those folk songs no one writes down,” Ginny explained. “It just gets passed down, generation to generation. I bet the lyrics are completely different from the original,” she smiled to herself. “Dad used to sing it to us before we went to sleep. For the longest time I didn’t know any of the verses past the fourth. It’s genius” - she grinned at Hermione – “no kid is making it through to the end; it’s almost ten minutes long.”

Hermione chuckled brightly and Ginny’s heart snagged in her chest for a moment.

It was painful sometimes; how beautiful Hermione was. She probably stared a bit too long at the other girl’s wide smile and sparkling eyes. She couldn’t tell. The whiskey was making her body and mind melt pleasantly.

“What?” Hermione asked.

Ginny shook herself.

“Nothing,” she coughed. “What did your parents do to make you go to sleep?”

“Well,” Hermione looked up thoughtfully. “They tried reading to me, but that did not work,” she giggled. “At all. I had a lot of questions: how did the cow manage to jump as high as the moon? If bears could talk and live like people, where were they?”

“Valid questions,” Ginny laughed.

“Eventually, they made up a game called ‘Mione’s Question Time’ – “

“Adorable.”

“- where I would ask as many questions I could think of and they would answer until I ran out or fell asleep.”

“That is the cutest, most Hermione, thing I have ever heard,” Ginny managed to say.

Hermione caught her eyes, which quite possibly had cartoon hearts in them, and shrugged. They held eye contact for a moment before Ginny looked up at the sky. If she didn’t, she would do something stupid.

Like tell Hermione that she was the best person ever.

Or kiss her.

Hermione eventually lay down, pulling the blanket around herself. When Ginny joined her, the other girl snuggled against her side, radiating heat onto Ginny’s cool skin.

“There’s Pegasus,” Hermione said, pointing up at a cluster of stars. “And Andromeda.”

“Isn’t she the one who was chained to a rock?”

“Yes. Sacrificed for being too beautiful," she grimaced.

“I always thought Circe got it right,” Ginny mused. “Just transfigure all the men into literal pigs.”

Hermione let out a surprised snort. Then shot Ginny a look.

“Sappho had a good idea too," she said. "Just live on an island of lesbians and write gay poetry.”

Ginny laughed loudly.

“The dream...”

They turned their heads to look at each other, both smiling wide. Hermione shifted onto her side facing Ginny.

“Your eyes look crazy in this light,” she said quietly, when they had been staring for a moment.

“Oh great,” Ginny smiled. “I have crazy eyes.”

Hermione shook her head, “I meant they’re a crazy glowing amber colour. Beautiful,” she gazed into the eyes in question. “I’ve always admired your eyes.”

For a long moment, Ginny felt the whole universe was in Hermione’s pupils. There was something dangerous stirring in her chest. Like the feeling before she made a risky flying move.

She turned onto her side as well, bringing their noses close. She heard Hermione’s breathing change and suddenly she had no choice. She brought her freckled hand up to Hermione’s chin and tilted it towards her as she shifted their bodies even closer. Hermione licked her lips. Ginny felt her heart slamming out a crazy rhythm and leaned in, not thinking any more, feeling the echo of Hermione’s earlier ‘Fuck it’–

“Ginny! Hermione!” someone shouted from nearby.

Ginny snatched her hand away and sat up abruptly. There were loud footsteps approaching. She looked over and saw Ron jogging towards them.

Her heart was racing, and she felt her body pulsing with it. Her head spun, but that might have been the alcohol. Hermione lay still beside her.

“Fred and George are starting the fireworks,” Ron said, panting, as he reached them. “Also, mum’s been asking about you two and missing Firewhisky…”

Ginny stood up and wordlessly collected the blanket, surreptitiously wrapping the bottle in it. Hermione stood as well and dusted herself off distractedly.

Ginny glanced quickly into her eyes, which were wide. She could practically see the gears start to turn behind them. She looked away again, heart in her throat and led the way back to the Burrow.

They had almost kissed. Ginny had almost _kissed_ Hermione.

She hadn’t been thinking. There’d been the alcohol and the stars and who wouldn’t find that romantic. And Hermione had looked like she would let her. Let Ginny kiss her.

It was a huge mistake.

It was a disaster.

Now Hermione knew that she was the one Ginny couldn’t be with, the one Ginny dreamed about. Ginny had gone and done exactly what she had continuously promised herself she wouldn’t do. She had stepped all over their friendship and made it messy with her feelings. Her typical bullheaded, rash behaviour. Her stupid impulses. In the moment it had felt so right, but reality crashed into her like a physical blow.

She knew what was coming, but she didn’t know if she could handle it.

Soft grass was crushed beneath each step of her trainers. An owl hooted nearby and Ron rambled on about something.

Ginny’s heart sunk even further as she envisioned the inevitable conversation. Where Hermione would explain kindly that she didn’t think of Ginny that way. She would be so nice about it. And it would break Ginny’s heart. And things would never be the same between them.

Ginny finished the walk back in shock, her mind skipping between thoughts. The whisky still hummed in her veins and made everything fuzzy.

When the three of them reached the garden, they were folded into the excitement and Ginny lost track of Hermione.

She watched numbly as the twins shouted, “3… 2…. 1!!” and lit a cube with their wands before tossing it into the sky.

Everyone oohed and aahed as it exploded into butterflies, forming the initials W.W.W, and then broke into stars that showered down on them. Ginny’s dad put his arm around her and hugged her close.

As the twins set off the next set, Ginny looked across the crowd just to see Hermione look away from her. She felt a hollow sadness settle in her chest. Whether it was the lost opportunity or the realization she had messed everything up, she didn’t know. But she relaxed into her dad’s comforting solidness for a moment and let her mind go blank.

Tonks arrived midway through the displays and helped the twins set off a particularly large set that ended in a rainbow arching over the entire cottage. Ginny couldn’t help but smile at that. Tonks still had less than her usual amount of overflowing clumsy enthusiasm, but she looked a bit better.

When the show was over, Ginny’s older brothers cracked open another bottle of whiskey and she went inside. She made her way up the stairs with Ron, feeling exhaustion sweep over her.

Her mind’s frantic whirring had slowed. She was tired down to her bones.

“Did you actually convince Hermione to nick alcohol?” Ron asked, incredulous.

She looked at her hands as she climbed the stairs - there was dirt under her nails.

She nodded absently.

“You really are the Granger whisperer,” he said, and Ginny barely contained a choked laugh.

When she reached her bedroom and bid Ron goodnight, Hermione was sitting on the edge of her cot.

She looked tense.

Ginny walked to her dresser and started pull out her pyjamas, hoping she could postpone this. If they could just wait until the morning… Well, it wouldn’t be much better. At least she would be alert enough to play along. 

But Hermione seemed determined.

“Gin,” she began quietly, but with a hint of steel. “Can we talk?”

Ginny sighed and sat down on her own bed, looking at the floor.

“Tonight, when we were – you know…” Hermione began, quickly becoming flustered.

“It’s fine, Hermione. It’s nothing,” she said to the floor and then squared she shoulders. She looked up at her friend, because she was a Gryffindor after all.

Hermione looked confused.

“I mean, we’re friends and we had some drinks, and nothing happened, so.”

“Is that what you-,” Hermione began.

“Look, let’s just not-,” Ginny closed her eyes, trying her best to ignore the pain in her chest. “Can we just not talk about it?” she asked, flitting her eyes away from Hermione’s.

Hermione nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.”

Ginny nodded back then stood quickly. “I’m going to go shower. I think Fred and George put essence of dung bomb in the fake stardust.” She gave a weak smile and left the room clutching her pyjamas.

After Ginny closed the door, Hermione put her head in her hands and swore.

* * *

Harry arrived at the Burrow about an hour later, but Hermione and Ginny were already asleep.

When they went downstairs for breakfast, in a tense silence neither could break, they heard the news and rushed to see their friend. Ginny got intercepted by early morning Phlegm, who told her to brighten up and then decided to bring Harry breakfast in the most obnoxious way. As if Ginny didn't have enough to deal with without living with the devil incarnate. As usual Ginny was pulled away by her mother when she'd been talking to Harry, Hermione, and Ron for a while.

In this instance she didn’t mind. She kept accidentally meeting Hermione’s eye.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione got their O.W.L. results later that morning. No one was surprised to hear Hermione had an almost perfect score and had become a Prefect. Ginny couldn’t help but smile at Hermione’s suppressed disappointment over her one Excellent. Then Ginny found out Ron had received a Prefect badge as well and burst out laughing. His look of shock was priceless. She couldn’t wait to tell the twins.

All in all, Hermione and Ginny managed to avoid talking to each other directly for the next week. In odd moments Ginny caught Hermione looking sad and it made her feel terrible. She’d gone ahead and made the best friendship of her life messy and incomprehensible. In fact, she was surprised Hermione wasn’t more angry at her.

The time passed in a hurry despite Ginny feeling like shit. It was easier with Harry around. He was up earlier than Ron, so it was never just Ginny and Hermione.

There was one awkward moment when Hermione managed to crash bodily into Ginny during a Quidditch game and they ended up lying in a heap on the ground, winded. As they caught their breath Ginny had felt the points of contact between them like fire.

And another time, Ginny joked about giving Hermione much needed one-on-one flying lessons. This was after a game Hermione had barely managed to stay on her broom, let alone play quidditch. Ginny's joke was nothing, or it should have been nothing, but Hermione caught her eye, and something passed between them. Something sad with a twang of tension.

There was a ‘before’ hanging there now. Before, Ginny would’ve looked forward to getting Hermione alone, maybe would’ve shared a broom with her. Now they nervously skittered around each other and there was a distance between them. The boys of course, were completely oblivious.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my best Hairy Mary, and for all you f/f HP fans searching for more. Here's my two favourite characters falling in love. I promise only happy endings. 
> 
> Also, leave me comments! I want to hear from you :) <3


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